


The Highway Siren

by IronMaidenOphelia



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, FICTOBER2018, Fictober, Ghost Stories, Girls Kissing, LGBT, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, White Lady, Yuri, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 14:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16160354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronMaidenOphelia/pseuds/IronMaidenOphelia
Summary: A woman who grew up listening to urban legends her great-grandmother use to tell her re-accounts her own experience.





	The Highway Siren

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer: This work belongs entirely to me. I am the sole creator and do not give anyone permission to share this story.*
> 
> I am not very good at drawing so Inktober was out of the question for me, so I decided to participate in Fictober. I don't have any prompts to go off of, so I am just kind of doing my own things. Mostly legends that have caught my eye over the years.

Out of all the legends my great-grandmother used to tell me, the story of the White Lady was always her favorite. In every story, it would always be about a beautiful woman, who was dressed entirely in white. In some accounts she would wander a particular spot, searching for her missing children or her lost lover. In others she haunted the highways, beckoning to drivers to bring her home. Depending on the what the driver chose to do, the outcome could turn out differently. Should the driver stop then the woman would get into the vehicle, and, they would go to the location of her house.  
In some cases she would no longer be in the car, should the driver turn to her. In others she would beseech the driver to come inside, should the house remain standing. There were some versions of the story, that was bawdier and ended with the man or woman in the tale waking up to a dilapidated house and the woman in white gone. Of course, that was only in cases where the ride was offered, if the person continued to drive past the woman without stopping, it was said that she would appear in their backseat. Often causing the vehicle to crash as its driver becomes overwrought with fear to the point they veer off a sharp curve.

As I grew up, I inherited my great grandmother’s love of urban legends. I would spend hours reading books and browsing the internet to read up on different stories told throughout the years. Which is how I became somewhat of an expert on the various stories surrounding the White Lady. There were sightings from all around the world, each with their own local legends. Each one had as many similarities as they had their differences. But the most agreed upon was the clothing of white, and the searching woman. Despite my love for the stories I read, they were just that, stories. I never felt the urge to go seek out the truth, they needn’t be real for me to find enjoyment out of them. Although in the back of my mind, they needed to remain just tales to scare and delight. The idea alone of running into one of these specters was enough to send waves of terror rushing through me. There was no great desire to play ghost hunters or put myself in danger, just for the sake of proving the supernatural was real.

_Not that it mattered anyway, because she found me anyway._

It was just after two in the morning, the October air was crisp, and the chill was a welcome bite. After my third gas station coffee, failing to do its job, I figured the cold air would have to do. I had a long drive ahead of me, that would land me in Pennsylvania a little after eight in the morning. I probably should have stopped once I hit the Virginia state line, but there was something about only having six hours to go; that made me feel restless at stopping. Plus if I didn’t arrive soon, my parents were going to spam my phone with a plethora of texts. All of which would go unchecked until the next gas station stop, and by then I would have received the max amount of messages, that my phone could hold. They were the ultimate worrywarts, but I supposed I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I took the next curve a little wider than I should have, also a bit too fast, if I were completely honest. The car swung dangerously close to the railing and tilted slightly towards the right. For several seconds my heart felt as if it were about to stop. I didn’t so much as dare to breathe for tipping the car over the side. By some miracle, the car must have righted itself, although I don’t remember regaining control. There was a loud ringing in my ears, my copper eyes stared straight forward at nothing in my particular. For who knows how long I sat in my car, stunned by the sudden incident, that had nearly ended with me toppling to my death. Gradually I came to my senses, resigning that I was going to have to find an inn. I didn’t need another sign, then this near-death experience to inform me, that it was time to pull over for the night.

A sudden knock on the passenger window, had me nearly jumping out of my seat. My head whipped to the side and saw a woman peering back at me from the window. As my heart rammed against my rib cage, all I could think about was how stunning, the woman was. With her cream-colored skin, oval shaped face and wavy dark hair, she looked almost otherworldly. “Excuse me? May I get in?” she implored, her voice like the sound of bells. I nodded dumbly and then the door was opening, and in she came a tide of white silk and the air of a fairy. It was only as the door closed behind her that I noticed how foggy it had grown outside. It seemed to come out of nowhere, and almost instantly, as if on command. Upon starting the car and pulling away from the curb, I took note of my companion’s attire. She wore her dark hair down, its length measuring near the floor. She wore a summer dress that flowed down to her feet. It showed off her delicate shoulders and prominent collarbone. While the swell of her full chest seemed to almost strain against the delicate material. My eyes going lower noted how the dress, molded against her generously wide hips. To top it off was a shawl made from wool, that was draped around her back and looped over her arms loosely.

How I hadn’t noticed the evidence screaming in my face, is lost to me, still even today. The best way to describe it would be to say that I had been enchanted with her.  
“Where to?” I asked as I found my voice.  
“You were quite lucky. You must be shaken up, poor thing. I saw the whole thing, you nearly toppled over the edge!” the woman exclaimed, instead of answering right away. Her lily white hand came to rest upon mine, its icy chill going unnoticed at the time.  
“Can you take me home?” she implored, her voice dropping an octave lower. I took my eyes off the road for one moment, just long enough to look into her eyes, noting the vibrant shade of olive, staring back at me.

Part of me wonders if I had known, at the time, what she was, if it would have changed anything. The imploring look was compelling, the need to help this woman was so overwhelming, that I don’t think that I would have said no either way.  
“Where’s home?” I heard myself ask. She dropped a kiss on my cheek, her lips like ice upon my warm skin. She gave me the address, one of which would take me off my course, much to my GPS’ dismay. After rounding another corner, I drove straight forward onto an old abandoned road. Taking note of the rickety sign, it told me that I was on the right path. The dirt road that I drove upon had seen better days. It hadn’t seen repair for quite some time, it was going to be hell on my tires. Not to mention the way it twisted and turned gave my sleep exhausted mind, a run for its money. Encasing the road were trees that looked as old as time. They were tall, and all crowded together, and equally as dead as a doornail. But no less menacing, with the way they were all crowded together. Encasing us, like a prison.

As I followed the path, I learned that the woman’s name was Fern. She’d been on an evening stroll, when the fog started to roll in, and then came upon my shining stunt double moment, seconds later. Fern explained that she lived further away from town, and was nervous walking back without being able to see, where she was going. After some time the road opened up, revealing an end to the eerie path. The trees gave way to open air and a barren field, that looked as though they would be occupied in another few weeks. Fern instructed me to go further down the road to the farmhouse that I could barely make out across the fields of dirt. Pushing my vehicle forward my tires were treated to round two of shitty roads. As we moved closer to the farmhouse, I could see that it was an old two story house, Victorian wrap around porch. Although not quite as grand as some of the ones, I had seen on the way up to Virginia.  
Nonetheless, it had a warm, cozy air about it, the longer I stared at it. As we came to a stop just outside, I saw that there was an old barn, a little ways off from the house. That could use an extra coat of paint but otherwise was in great shape.  
“You’re exhausted. Come inside and let my fire warm you.” Fern coaxed, leaning close to me. My heart raced in my chest, while my lower half took the meaning, elsewhere. When all the woman probably meant was, that she had a fireplace. Admittedly though it was hard to think with a woman like Fern looking at me.  
“I wouldn’t want to put you out.” I tried to decline carefully.  
“And I don’t want to hear of an accident, where a troublesome woman carelessly falls to her death in the news come tomorrow.” Fern shot back, though shortly after those full lips broke out into a bewitching smile.  
I couldn’t help it, a grin broke out of my face, my eyes dancing in enchantment. That was all it took for me to cave before we were bounding up the stairs to the porch, and up to front door. Seconds after Fern let us in, the door closed behind us, and she was on me. Her lips were hotter than a flame, as she pressed them against mine. A surprised groan fell from my lips, right before my hand's dove into her wild black hair. My body further came alive as she pushed herself against mine, breast to breast and hip to hip. I hardly made it a custom to get hot and bothered over random women I had just met. But there was something about Fern, that drove out a sort of ache from deep within me; that I could no more turn away from if I tried. Or at least that is what it felt like at that moment, with her lips on mine and imploring body pushed against me.

At some point we made our way in front of the fireplace, only then did Fern break our kiss. She lowered herself to the wooden floor, urging me down atop her as she did. Once more I was a slave to that mouth, that needed to be against mine so desperately; it became hard to think. As she arched her body into mine, while rolling her hips forward, my teeth sank into her lower lip. Earning a soft cry of surprise, that gave me the chance I needed. My tongue thrust into her warm mouth, sliding alongside hers to tangle and tease. She responded in kind by winding her long, willowy legs, around my waist, and dragging me further against her. Leading me to take her mouth with more hunger, than I have ever known. It wasn’t long after the exchange of heated lips that our clothing fell away, disappearing on the sofa and god knows where else.  
“Please hurry! I am so cold!” she exclaimed, her body holding desperation, that momentarily startled me. But before I could pull away, Fern caught hold of my hips and guided them to hers. Her arms moving fluidly to come around my neck, sharp nails digging into my shoulders, and her hips grinding against my own. It became hard to process thought after that, my own hips bucking in return, seeking to line our bodies together. I found the point where our bodies met, and pressed my center against hers, before grinding down upon her. Feeling how wet she was, only encouraged me to further rock against her. Fern’s soft moans and desperate pleas mingled with my own low heated groans. What time they weren't drowned out by the fiery kisses, every time our lips met.  
The long morning hours disappeared, making me lose track of time. I took Fern over and over again, one last time was never enough. Her taste sweet in my mouth as my tongue dove into her pussy over and over again. While her fingers tangled my burgundy locks, as she held onto me, every time her climax was near. My name on her lips all the while, which always followed the need for more. Fern was insatiable, and so was I in my need to have her, quaking against me. To hear those loud, needy cries for no other reason, than to know that it was me who was causing such a reaction out of this woman. Time was lost, but during that haze, it didn’t matter because she was there needing, something that only I could give.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep from our torrid lovemaking. Because someone was calling my name from far off. It took a bit of effort, but I managed to open my eyes, at last, finding myself surrounded by my family and a blinding white light.  
“Oh thank gods Sia you’re awake!” exclaimed my mother. Confusion swept through my mind as I stared back and forth between my mother, and father. Both mirror images versions of myself, or so everyone likes to point out.  
“Huh? Ma.. what are you talking about?” I asked. I tried to sit up but was immediately overcome with a wave of dizziness. My hand flew to my head, which was wrapped in thick layers of gauze.  
“Don't’ try and move around too much. You were in an unfortunate accident back in Cana. You had to be airlifted to Arlington.” her dad exclaimed. His words sank in but whether it was from drugs or something else I couldn’t quite grasp what he was talking about. I told them as much, that I hadn’t wrecked, that I was with another woman named Fern, and that we went back to her place. As soon as I tried to explain, my words started speeding up, my vision blurred, as I tried to get up out of bed. Nurses were called, and at some point, a needle must have put me under because I don’t remember much after that.

_Epilogue:_

It took several at least a couple weeks in the hospital until I was cleared to go home. By then my parents all but insisted on dragging me home, refusing my protests, that I was needed back at college. Education be damned in the eyes of Flora and Robert Hathaway as far as they were concerned. After several calls and reassurances, that I wouldn’t have to retake my courses; I finally gave in.

Fast forward several weeks later I was on my parents desktop, searching the web to make sense of what happened to me. It didn’t take long into my search to find out, what I had already suspected. What I had pulled up was an article dating back to the late seventeen hundreds. A woman, Fern Livingston, was accused of being a witch was found drowned in the lake at the back of her house. Her murderer(s) were never caught; however, there were local legends, surrounding the area of a woman dressed in all white roaming the highways on foggy nights. With my heart racing against my chest, I dared to scroll lower down the page. There at the end was a sketch, that was the spitting image of the woman, who had knocked on my window, that night.

Regardless of what anyone had said, what had happened that night, I knew for a fact that I had somehow caught her attention. Whether it was in a limbo state of the town of Cana, or a time rift; that night had been real. It all made sense now why Fern had begged to be warmed, she likely wore next to nothing, when she was drowned. Between the icy water and the chill of death, no wonder, the poor woman felt the need to reach out to someone who could provide her with the needed heat. The thought hardly made sense, but it was how my mind was processing all of this. Amidst the fear that was threatening to take hold of me, there was also a part of me that felt a deep sense of grief. Grief for a woman forced to grow up in an era of ignorance, who was apparently still held to this world for one reason or the other. And lastly grief for myself, that I longed for a woman that was long since dead.


End file.
